Akhal Teke Autumn

She canters freedom like wind Gallops wilderness like fire And into metallic dreams She blazes banter with reverence- Only to chute through life’s greenbrier- letting seasons mark her deviance!

As she gaits, bittersweet love is dinned with a shako of loss and a whimsical rouleau! She caulks impressions from semblance- Halting anguish with mystic desire! Denying cant from reinters is a gyre- she perfectly forms as she trots!

In her cremello eyes is a mundane escape from all that is eidolon and bemire! Waiting for her rider, she dismounts- popinjays with utmost countenance! Mettlesome is her autumn full of satire!

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Those leaves weren’t few that shed away But down alive, not much could stay Few were tramped, few had dried It isn’t, that they never tried Few were blown, few were crushed At nights they lived, as roads were hushed

Autumn is one of the four seasons of all Here, the leaves of the trees do fall. Night spreads it’s darkness prematurely And cold ascends with it cavalierly. Nothing’s different in the autumn of life Where the wrinkled cheeks and